


As The Night Falls

by Ladylauralue



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:36:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5831128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladylauralue/pseuds/Ladylauralue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunter!Belle and Hunter Jefferson come back from a hunt gone sideways. Gold and Alice greet them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As The Night Falls

It wasn’t so much that Ezekiel Gold hated the garishly painted El Camino. Bright blue was a bit of an eyesore, but it was just a car, one that wasn’t even around much. There was no reason to hate it, but he did fantasize about leaving it in an ill-reputable neighborhood with the keys in the ignition. Often. But on days like today, he had to keep himself from staring out the window, waiting for the tell-tale dust cloud that could only mean Annabelle Francis was behind the wheel of her beloved blue El Camino. It had been two weeks since he’d seen the bumper driving away—in the middle of the night—and not that he’d been counting the days, but he’d been getting antsy. The rumors about the vampire nest were hardly substantial, but as usual Annabelle had bolted out the door, Jefferson Maddock shirtless and in tow, racing off in that blasted car.

He knew about her sore spot with vampires, but he thought she’d overcome it. She couldn’t go off racing into the night blindly—well, she could, quite obviously, but she shouldn’t. As to her choice in companion, he’d had his doubts about Jefferson, but when push came to stab, he’d always had Annabelle’s back.

“Gold, they’ll be here soon, you can stop pacing.” A low voice interrupted his musings as Alice soon-to-be-Maddock wheeled in from the hall. “If you need something to do, make tea. I’ll put some cookies in the oven, we can amuse ourselves until they arrive.”

Wheelchair bound since a bad run in with a Doppelganger, Alice had flourished in making herself useful as the research arm of their motley operation. She’d taken charge as soon as she’d been set down, ordering Annabelle, Jefferson and eventually Ezekiel around, only satisfied once everything was completely to her specifications. It had been the most interesting two weeks of Ezekiel Gold’s formerly solitary life. He found that, like with Annabelle, he enjoyed the slender blonde’s company. Invaluable, clever and willful, she made an excellent companion when his charge and her dubious partner were out Hunting. She enjoyed toying with words as much as he did, and they often got wrapped up in their own odd speech games. Time passed more easily with her to help speed things along. “I’m not pacing,” was all Ezekiel said as he limped to the kitchen.

The pantry was well stocked with boxed baked goods, compliments of Alice and Annabelle’s love of running a “proper kitchen”. Pulling out mixing bowls and eggs, Alice started making ginger snaps, a personal favorite of hers, while humming softy to herself. It was a cue he’d learned a few months into knowing her, signaling she was open to conversation, but wouldn’t push for it. Alice liked sound, any kind of sound; music, chatter, ambiance, anything but white noise or dead silence. Slender hands made quick work of mixing the cookie dough, and by the time Ezekiel’s ancient tea kettle was whistling she had two cookie sheets full and waiting for the oven to finish heating. Alice took peppermint tea, while he readied a cup of his private store of Earl Grey. He couldn’t find any subject he felt confident in discussing, and settled down to watch Alice as she shelved the cookie sheets and set the timer. When it beeped a few minutes later, both Ezekiel and Alice were startled out of a stupor. They’d both been staring out the window as dusk overcame the afternoon eagerly awaiting any sign of the return of their dear ones. Alice rolled over to the oven and struggled to get the scalding sheets on top of the stove to cool, while Ezekiel suppressed the urge to help her. The only time Alice allowed help was if she’d hurt herself or was pushing through their makeshift physical therapy.

Not too long after sundown headlights shone in the distance, not quite illuminating the interior of the kitchen yet, drawing an excited gasp from Alice as she sped hastily to the front hallway. Grabbing his cane, Ezekiel hobbled after her, his leg a bit stiff from the tense immobility of waiting. They waited, Alice sitting as forward in her chair as she was able to, Ezekiel steadfastly behind her.

They heard the engine die, doors creak open and bang shut, and finally frantic footfalls up the steps. Annabelle unlocked and shoved the door open, her face hidden by a curtain of blonde curls under the arm of a weak Jefferson. “Hang on, I know, I know” Annabelle muttered as she reached for a glass jar kept on a table next to the door. She tipped her head back and took a steady pull, handing the jar to Jefferson as she swallowed. She took a small silver pen knife from her jacket pocket and clumsily let the blade cut her flesh, only managing to squeeze a fist around it until blood welled up from a shallow wound. “You’re going to have to settle for that, Gold. Jefferson’s already lost too much blood.”

“What happened?” Alice cried, and Ezekiel was certain she’d registered the bloodstained rags wrapped around her fiancée’s throat. She managed a glance behind her, waiting for approval before wheeling forward, coming to a stop with her arms outstretched to caress anything she could reach, settling for a jacket sleeve. Half dragged, half stumbling, Jefferson was maneuvered to the living room couch where Annabelle crashed unceremoniously into the cushions with her friend in tow.

Jefferson reached out for Alice, clutching her hand as he shushed her reassuringly “It’s nothing we couldn’t handle, little one.”

When Alice turned to Annabelle for more information, Annabelle sighed. “Vamps ambushed him while he was scouting. They were holding him as bait, thinking I’d fall for it.” Annabelle stood up from the couch. “Doctors said he’ll be fine, but he’ll be weak for a while.” She straightened her own jacket before adding “the stitches sort of tore a bit on the ride home. He fell asleep wrong in the seat.

Jefferson tried to glare at his traitorous friend, but couldn’t manage it when the move required him to stretch his neck back “That was two days ago. I feel spectacular, just tired.”

Alice leaned over to card her fingers through his hair. “Can you make it to our room?”

Humming appreciatively to her attentions, Jefferson had to pull himself out of his reverie “Probably not. I’ll have to make do with sleeping here tonight.”

“You can fill her in on what happened, I’ve got to get some sleep.”

Ezekiel observed calmly as Annabelle threw open the shabby luggage trunk that served to store blankets and tugged a few out to toss at the battered couple. Alice was already pulling herself onto the couch, anxiously wrapping her arms around Jefferson as he pulled a blanket over them. Annabelle was already making her way towards the stairs when Jefferson spoke to Ezekiel. “She’s barely slept since we left. Something shook her up bad, and I don’t think it was just what happened. She’s not been eating much either.”

Nodding in understanding, Ezekiel turned to leave the two alone. “Thank you Jefferson. Take care, both of you.” He said before climbing up the stairs after Annabelle.

Once outside her door he knocked firmly on the door frame. Annabelle had gotten rid of her door years ago, arranging for curtains to be up, with some tacky beaded door, instead. “Come on in.” Annabelle said, not needing to raise her voice. Brushing aside the beads and fabric, Ezekiel Gold stepped inside her room, coming to a stop when he saw Annabelle pulling her jacket back on.

“Going somewhere?” he said, turning the question into a caress with his brogue. He normally tried to thin the accent when he was around others, but she’d overcome being unable to understand him.

Annabelle sat back on her bed, arms crossed in casual defense “No, it’s just a little chilly.” A deaf man could have heard the lie in the too-quick response. The thermostat was kept at a comfortable 70 degrees, keeping his leg from getting to stiff or painful.

Resting his hands on his cane, he leaned in ever so slightly, his eyes not leaving Annabelle. Maybe, on a good day, she could get one past him. She’d been living with him since she was fourteen and he knew all her tells, but he’d also taught her how to hide most of them. “Liar.” was all he said.

Jerking her head around to glower, Ezekiel felt her scrutiny like a physical scratch of nails along his body. Pale blue eyes glared daggers into his dark brown, neither of them wanting to look away, until hers filled with tears. “Not tonight, Zeke. I can’t do this tonight.” Tears fell down her face and she bowed her head to brush them away with the sleeve of her too large jacket.

The nickname and the slight sniffle that followed hit Ezekiel like a punch to the stomach. He knew the cost of this kind of life, as did she. The two downstairs knew as well, he and Alice having more personal experience with the costs of a Hunter’s life. Annabelle knew, she bore the scars inside and out of the dangers, but something was different about tonight. Instead of speaking, Ezekiel stepped closer, sitting on the bed without waiting for permission or an invitation. Before he could think of anything to say he was crushed in the arms of Annabelle as she wrapped her arms around him and clung like she had no intention of ever letting go. She buried her head in the hollow of his neck and shoulder and let the tears fall, sobs wracking her slender shoulders. “I thought I’d never make it back,” he had to strain to understand the words she whispered.

Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. He let his cane fall to the ground and returned her embrace as best she could. He ran fingers through her curls with one hand, while his other arm held her close. “You can tell me,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against her hair. “What happened, Belle?”

Annabelle pulled back, shaking her head. “Not tonight, Zeke. Just…” she trailed off and looked away, biting her lip.

Gently, Ezekiel brushed a hand against her jaw, pulling her focus back to him. “Not tonight then,” he agreed. He loosened his hold, about to lean down to pick up his cane when she pulled him back.

He turned back to look at her, neither saying a word for a long, quiet moment, until Annabelle finally spoke. “I can’t be alone, in the dark, tonight,” she worried her bottom lip with her teeth, biting hard enough that Ezekiel was worried she would draw blood. “Please, stay with me? Here?”

They hadn’t shared a room since she was sixteen; it had taken two years since he rescued her for her to be able to make it through the night without waking from nightmares. In the twelve years his feelings for her had shifted from a guardians protective urges to something fiercer. Something darker that would bring hell to anything that dared to think to hurt her. Ever since she was nineteen she’d been in and out of his house, going out on Hunts by herself until Jefferson came along with Alice. She had grown from a soft, frightened girl he’d all but kidnapped in a hospital gown to a strong, brave fighter, and he’d been so proud of everything she’d been able to accomplish, everything she’d worked to overcome.

If he stayed with her, he would have to confront his conflicting emotions about Annabelle, and he wasn’t sure if he was brave enough. “Please,” she asked again, and this time, he could hear the sobs threatening to force their way out.

Nodding, Ezekiel kicked off his shoes and fell back onto the mattress, his arms still around Annabelle. He didn’t meet her eyes, afraid to acknowledge the situation, but once they were laid out Annabelle curled up into his side, one leg hitched over his good leg and her face snuggled into his chest. He spared a thought for their clothes, hardly appropriate for bed, but as afraid as he was to confront the situation, he was unwilling to bring its end. She’d be warm enough in her shorts and leggings, her jacket the only thing he could think would be too warm in the night. He could accept getting his trousers and button up dress shirt wrinkly if it meant he could hold her and keep the nightmares at bay through the night. He intended to stay up, to be awake for every moment of this, but before long her calm breathing lulling him to his first restful sleep in weeks.


End file.
